Everything Is Just Roses
by Faerie Dreaming
Summary: An old friend... A fiancé... And a big decision that could change everything... Post Voldemort. Read and review please!
1. Knock Knock

Just a little idea I've been playing with. If I get enough feedback, I'll continue it. This takes place a few years AFTER the 7th book. Harry has defeated Voldemort. Remember that, my dear cherubs.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my story.

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 1: "Knock Knock"

There she stood upon the little stool with mirrors all around her, admiring her reflection from every possible angle. Wow… she had to admit, she looked pretty good! The gorgeous white dress accentuated her every curve perfectly and the long train attached to it made her feel like royalty. It was hard to believe that she, Hermione Granger, was a bride-to-be.

A knock came from the door of the mirrored room. "Yes?"

"May I see just how wonderful you look?"

Recognizing the voice of her best friend, Hermione called out, "Oh yea! Come in!"

Luna Lovegood entered and her eyes grew to the size of afternoon-tea saucers. "Oooo! Brilliant! You look absolutely outstanding! I love it. I'm sure Ron's jaw will hit the floor when he sees you walk down that isle."

Hermione beamed. "Thanks sweetheart. Lemme go get changed and we can go for Butterbeers." After doing so and paying for the dress, she and Luna left Madame Wanda's Wedding Wishes and headed for the Three Broomsticks. After so many visits to Hogsmeade during her Hogwarts years, Hermione found she could never completely stop her visits. In fact, she loved it so much that she had gotten an apartment not far from it.

The snow outside was falling gently making Hermione pull her scarf closer to her face. It was winter. And yes, she and Ron were going to be wed in the winter. She had suggested putting off until spring, but Ron had insisted; telling her he couldn't possibly waited that long. So she relented. Sure it wasn't exactly conventional, but come on, they weren't exactly conventional people now were they?

As they sat cozily in Hermione's favorite spot in the Three Broomsticks: the far corner by the window, poised over their drinks, they discussed the guest list. "So who are you inviting?" Luna wondered.

"Well I'm definitely invited Ron's entire family, my mom and dad, Hagrid and Madame Maxime, Professor Lupin and Tonks—or should I say Mr. and Mrs. Lupin; they gotten hitched if you didn't know, you and if you'd like to bring Neville that's fine."

"Oh yes! He'll be delighted! But… what about… Harry?"

This caught Hermione off guard. Harry… The last time she saw him was about two years ago, a week after graduation.

--Two years ago…--

The doorbell rang of Hermione's brand new apartment that her parents had bought for her as a graduation present. "Coming!" she cried.

Harry entered her flat looking absolutely thrilled. "What's up?" Hermione asked him.

"Hermione! I've gotten a letter from Auror Headquarters and they want me to be an Auror for them! I can't believe it!" Harry picked Hermione up and spun her around.

"That's brill Harry! I'm so proud of you!"

When Harry had finally let her down, she asked, "Have you told Ron?"

"Yeah! He's really excited."

"Well that makes two of us."

But then, Harry's expression changed from one of pure joy to a more serious one. He took her hand, led her to the nearest couch, and sat her down. "But," he began. "There's a downside to all this." He looked at Hermione's concerned face and quickly focused his gaze down on his knees and mumbled, "I have to travel. A lot. Meaning… I won't see you and Ron very often anymore."

Hermione rested her hand on his cheek and his eyes met hers. "Harry, listen to me. This is what you've always wanted. Please don't let Ron and I be the reason you don't take this opportunity to fulfill your dreams. Go. I just know you'll be great."

Harry's eyes almost softened to tears. "You're amazing, Hermione. You really are." Hermione smiled. "I'll be taking Ginny with me. She's going to try to get a job with her dad at the Ministry."

Hermione's heart sank. Why? She couldn't explain. She and Ron were already in a very serious relationship and she sensed that things were really going to get heated up soon. Yet, here she was sitting in front of Harry, smiling and nodding softly with a funny feeling inside her. Deciding to push those nonsense feelings aside, she changed the subject.

"You will write to us won't you, Harry?"

"Of course I will! You're my best friends. I promise I'll write every other day if not every single day."

They talked about his job for a while. Then, Hermione remembered she had to get ready for a dinner date with Ron.

"I'll walk you to the door," she told her emerald-eye friend.

At the doorway Harry turned to leave, but hesitate and faced Hermione, looking at her in a sad sort of way. "I really will miss you, you know." He leaned towards her and kissed her so softly on her cheek that he barely touched her.

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. She looked down so he wouldn't see. "I'll miss you too, Harry," she replied with a voice that she had forced with every fiber of her being to be steady. When she looked up, Harry was gone.

Closing the door, she slumped down against it and sobbed her heart out.

Ron proposed that night.

--Present day…--

Hermione touched the exact spot where Harry's lips had brushed her cheek. Though he had scarcely touched her, that touch burned more than anything she had ever felt.

Luna, seeing that she had hit a sore spot, began talking about something else. The rest of their evening went quite smoothly and by eleven that night, Hermione had bid Luna good-bye and was entering her apartment.

She threw her coat and scarf down on the couch and checked by the window to see if she had gotten any messages from anyone. A couple. One from her mother just saying hello. Her mother was a big animal-lover; so she used the owl post every chance she got. She couldn't help but chuckle a little at her mom. The other was from Luna telling her that she had just gotten home. Hermione shook her head. That was Luna for you.

Her doorbell rang. "Yeah! Be right there!" It was probably Ron, coming over for some late-night canoodling.

But when she opened the door, her heart jumped right up to her throat. Standing there at the doorway was him. The one she had remembered in the Three Broomsticks. Harry.

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So what did everyone think? If I get at least five reviews, I'll continue. I hope everyone liked it. Even if you didn't, please tell me. Oh and please, if you know anyone who might like to read this, recommend it to them. If you like me to read, review, and recommend your story, just say so and I'll be glad to!


	2. You Came Back

Thanks sooo sooo much to those who reviewed. You're all stars. It really gave me confidence in my story. I love you guys!

P.S. – Please please please, if you like this, read my other stuff and review it! If you'd like me to review your stuff, tell me.

**PLEASE READ THIS** – If you do read my stuff, please please review it. I've noticed that I've gotten lots and lots of hits on my stories but barely any reviews. Come on, if you like it, please tell me! I'll let you in on a little secret: **Good reviews More updates from me. **Just in case you didn't know!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 2: "You Came Back"

"Hermione…" he whispered.

The Harry that stood in front of her wasn't the same Harry that she had last seen two years ago. He now seemed exhausted and downtrodden. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his mouth seemed fixed in a solemn way.

He stepped towards her and extended his hand out for her face. Hermione didn't know what to do but stand there dumbfounded as Harry embraced her tightly in his arms. She felt smothered and suffocated with emotion as a single tear rolled silently down her cheek. His hot breath against her neck sent shivers scurrying down her already tingling spine.

When he finally pulled away, his glistening eyes locked with hers. She felt frozen and vulnerable. He'd always done that to her; made her feel like she was being x-rayed. An overwhelming urge to slap him rose within her, but as quickly as it came—it vanished. Anger was one emotion she didn't have the heart to express right now.

Without saying anything, Hermione closed the door behind Harry and helped him to a chair at the dining table. Reluctantly, she left him there and went into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. She was afraid to leave him for even a moment in fear that he might disappear again, still not believing that he'd really come back.

As she waited for the kettle to whistle, she stood leaning against the kitchen sink massaging the back of her neck with one hand. What was she going to do? What would she say to him? There were so many things. She'd let him talk. Yeah, that's what she would do. He'd be the first one to speak if she had to sit there with him all bloody night.

The moment she placed the cup in front of him and sat down, words came spilling out of Harry's mouth as if they'd been desperate to break free.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry it's been so long. It tried to tell them that I wanted to write to you, but they wouldn't let me. I even tried to do it secretly but they intercepted the post. They'd keep telling me I was too great for that. And I'm so sorry. They'd always keep me so busy, giving me so much work. I thought things had changed since Scrimgeour first asked me to work for the Ministry, but no, they haven't! I was so stupid! After two bloody years, I finally was smart enough to realize they were just using me so I quit. And… And…she left me. Ginny left me."

Now Hermione really wanted to slap him. He came over to talk about Ginny! Immediately, she reconsidered her annoyance. Why did she care that he was talking about Ginny? She should slap _herself_. Come on, she loved Ron, not Harry…right?

During Hermione's little inner argument, a long and unbearably uncomfortable silence was taking place.

"Say something, anything," Harry whispered, peering at Hermione under his tear-soaked lashes. "Please."

At this, an irresistible desire to hold Harry close filled Hermione. She wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be all right and not to worry and that she'd make it all better, but…she couldn't. She couldn't do anything except say, "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Yeah…"

"Have you told Ron? Does he know you're back?"

"No and…no."

"Well…why did you come to me first?"

"Because…you're the one I can always turn to. You always have an answer to things. You're never at a loss for words. You're always calm and collected."

She did know why, but even if he was right, she was a bit insulted. Yet, now that she thought about it, he wasn't entirely correct. Sure, she was calm and collected, but only on the _outside_. She'd always tried to show people that so they wouldn't think she was an annoying emotional girlie-girl. Inside though, she was just that: an emotional girlie-girl. She rarely, if ever, had shown that side to anyone. Trying not to sound too hurt, she ventured, "So…why did…Ginny…um…leave you?"

Harry took a deep breath and stared at his lap. He still hadn't touched his tea, which had probably gone tepid by now. "She told me she couldn't handle me being so busy all the time. She said it made her bored. I think…I think she was having an affair." A bitter smile twisted his mouth. "I don't blame her."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she played with a loose string on the sleeve of her blouse. When she looked up, she saw Harry was bent over with his elbows on his knees and one hand rubbing his eyes. He looked worn out.

Deciding to change the subject, Hermione asked, "Do you wanna crash here, tonight?"

Harry lifted his head. "No, no. I've already overstayed my wel--"

"Really," Hermione cut him off. Somehow, she _wanted_ him to stay. Maybe she wanted to convince herself that his coming back wasn't just some crazy dream. "Make yourself at home. Take a shower, if you like."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. The bathroom's just through there." Hermione pointed him in the right direction.

There was a short silence. "Thanks, Hermione. Really, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Hermione responded in a low voice, trying not to let her heart flutter.

Harry left for the bathroom and after a brief while, she heard the water run.

The thought of Harry using her shower gave Hermione a minor twinge of secret enjoyment. _'Come now, Herms,'_ she scolded herself. _'Pull yourself together. You're in love with and soon going to get married to his best friend! Don't think such dirty thoughts.'_ Then a very crucial thought struck her. Harry needed a towel! Yeah, oh so crucial, eh?

After the stealth operation of "Sneak into the Bathroom and Place the Towel Noiselessly on the Bathroom Sink and Escape Unnoticed" had been a success, Hermione lay on her living room couch, listening to the steady hum of the distant showerhead. Once it had stopped, she wondered if Harry had seen the towel she had placed for him. What if he hadn't seen it? What if he was just standing there _au naturale_ at a loss as to what to do? Maybe she should have placed the towel in a more obvious location. She couldn't think of what that would be, but still, she would just knock on the door and ask. Just to make sure. You know. No harm in asking, right? Right.

Hermione approached the door so cautiously and carefully, it was as though she were approaching a sleeping Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog. She heard no sound upon knocking once so she tried the doorknob. The sight that met her when she opened the door made her think she had died and gone to heaven. An ethereal being stood in front of her. God, he certainly had grown. Every muscle on his body was defined and gleaming with the silky sheen of water. His lovely collarbone just atop a toned and bare chest. A taut stomach traveled down to regions hidden by a towel held by sculpted arms. Apparently, he'd seen the towel. Harry faced her, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding, Hermione stammered out an apology and hastily turned to leave. In her dire efforts to get away, her socked feet slipped on the hardwood floor and down she went, hitting the ground hard bottom-first. _'Bravo, my Lady Grace,'_ Hermione thought to herself, her backside throbbing.

Within seconds, Harry was crouched down next her, the towel wrapped securely about his perfectly formed hipbones. "Alright there, Herms?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah…" Hermione answered whilst rubbing at her bum.

"Funny," Harry said a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "I never figured Hermione Granger for a klutz, let alone a Peeping Tom…ette."

"Oh shush! I was only going to ask if you'd seen the towel I brought you!"

Harry laughed. "I know."

"Then why didn't you say anything when I knocked?"

"Because you knocked so lightly I thought I was hearing things."

He was right. "Well…I didn't want to…"

"Want to what? Disturb me?"

"I dunno! I guess so…"

"Hermione, it's a shower, not a study session for O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione was just about to open her mouth to retort when she really looked at Harry's face. The smile there washed away all hard feelings. She was pleased just to see him happy. He helped her up off the floor and she left to give him privacy to change. When he emerged, he was wearing boxers and an undershirt, ruffling his damp unruly hair with the towel.

"So…" Hermione began. "You can sleep on my bed and I'll take the couch."

"No way," Harry protested.

"What?"

"_I'll_ sleep on the couch and _you_ take the bed."

"But Harry, it's only polite--"

"It's only polite that I sleep on the couch because I came over unannounced."

Seeing that there was no winning with him and if she kept it going, they'd be standing there all night, Hermione gave in.

As she changed into her nightgown, Hermione tried hard not to think about the situation because she realized that's all she seemed to be doing. She had to stop analyzing the circumstances and just take them as they come, otherwise, she'd go mad. She slipped into bed, shut her eyes and tried to think of something else, but whatever she thought about would eventually go and her mind would wander back to Harry. It was like playing The --insert number here-- Degrees of Harry.

"Hermione," came a whisper from the outside world, or rather the world outside The Mind of Hermione. Slowly, she opened one eye then the other and found Harry knelt down beside her bed, staring at her. She sat up.

"Hey," she greeted him, also whispering, thought she really didn't know why. "What's up? Couldn't sleep?"

"No…"

She couldn't believe she was going to say this but, "Do you want to sleep next to me?"

At first, Harry looked down, hesitant, but Hermione bent down to meet his eye. "Really?" he wondered softly.

"Really," Hermione confirmed and he climbed in. They lay facing each other, eyes closed. Moments later, Harry's hand captured Hermione's.

Hermione didn't know what to do, but remembering her promise she'd made earlier of not analyzing situations, her panic subsided. She'd tell Harry that she was engaged to Ron tomorrow. And tomorrow was tomorrow—that's when she would deal with things. For now, she relaxed and fell into a deep serene sleep.

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Ta da! Please tell me what you think about this in a review! I hope you very much enjoyed it. Until next time…


	3. The Call

Wooooow it's been a while! So sorry for the wait everyone. I've been so freakin' busy with school. Please forgive moi! And a big THANK YOU to all who reviewed! Love you!

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry!

I hope you all like it!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 3: "The Call"

Sunlight seeped into Hermione's bedroom like lemonade spilling from a pitcher. She awoke but didn't open her eyes, smiling at the wonderful dream she'd just had.

Harry had come back, single, and fallen asleep next to her in bed. Single…the way she liked him…_ 'Shut up brain!'_

Feeling someone next to her stir, Hermione's eyes shot open. That's when she knew; it wasn't a dream.

The Boy Who Lived was sleeping right by her side, facing her. They hadn't moved from the position they'd fallen asleep in. This was quite a switch for Hermione who was generally a very restless sleeper.

Taking a moment to really look at Harry, she saw that he appeared peaceful for the first time since he had entered her apartment the night before. He was so beautiful. His eyes were softly closed, with his thick, long, ebony eyelashes resting atop his pronounced cheekbones. His skin glistened with an unearthly glow. He looked like an angel—a fallen angel.

Now the question at hand was how to get herself out of bed without waking this sleeping angel. Slowly, Hermione inched herself off the bed, still holding Harry's hand. Then, she carefully pried his gentle grip from her fingers. Just as she turned to leave, he moaned ever so softly. She froze, then looked back. Without waking, Harry reached his hand over to Hermione's side of the bed, took hold of her pillow and hugged it. Hermione smiled when he breathed in its scent. _Her_ scent.

She pulled some clothes and a towel out of her bureau and headed for the bathroom. As she tiptoed, nimble as a cat, she passed by her calendar. She stopped and stared at _the_ day. Today was Saturday so she'd be getting married in exactly two weeks. Butterflies began to flutter in Hermione's stomach. Was she excited? Maybe it was cold feet or…something else. _Were_ they even butterflies?

Brushing those feeling aside, Hermione hurried off to the bathroom.

Hermione really felt like doing something nice for herself so she ran herself a bath and almost emptied her bottle of bubble bath into the water. While she waited for the water to rise, she stripped off her clothes, wrapped herself in a towel, and sat on the floor with the side of her head resting against the wall. The tiles were cold against her legs but she didn't care.

When the bathtub had completely filled, she turned off the faucet, let her towel drop to the floor, and stepped in. The steamy water was heaven to her tense muscles. Hermione immediately relaxed and let out a long exhale.

As she played around with the bubbles, she wondered at how easy it had been for her to fall asleep the previous night. Usually, she tossed and turned in vain and thought about a million things before finally dropping off into her nightly stupor.

Once she'd become a total prune, Hermione reluctantly forced herself to get out. Droplets of water rolled off her skin as she toweled herself dry. After dressing, she left the bathroom and crept softly back to her bedroom just in case Harry was still asleep. But he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't even in the bedroom. Instead of Harry's head laying on the pillow, a single white piece of paper was in its place.

Hermione recognized Harry's small, sloppy scrawl right away. Her eyes ran through the note several times. It read:

_Hermione… Thank you so much for what you did. Sorry I couldn't stay, I have to go take care of a few things—visit some people. You know, like Ron. Anyways, thanks again. You're an angel. I don't know what I would have done without you. Harry_

For some reason, she couldn't stop reading those last two lines. Surely he just meant it in a friendly way. _'Why am I even wondering about it? I shouldn't care!'_

Deciding not to think anymore on the subject for the time being, she shoved the letter in her bag, bundled herself up to brace the freezing weather outside, and headed out the door for work. She was already running late.

After graduation, Hermione had surprised everyone by opening a Muggle-type book/coffee shop in Hogsmeade. Her friends has told her that this was the last thing they expected her to do, though she didn't really think so—after all, she loved being surrounded by books. On top of being surprised, none of her friends were too confident in her, but when it became an instant hit, they'd had to eat their words. Only her parents, Ron, Luna, and Neville had believed in her and the latter two were now working with her.

Two years ago, Hermione had been strolling around in the busiest parts of Hogsmeade trying to figure out _some_ way she could possibly put her plan into action when she noticed a shop she hadn't seen before. It was a cozy little place that sold Self-Knitting Needles and things of that sort. Instantly, Hermione was attracted. Now, Hermione wasn't exactly what one would consider the knitting type. What attracted her was the large white sign in the window that bore the words, "Going out of business. Space for sale."

Upon walking in, Hermione was met with a tiny old lady. She was one of those eccentric types with the eclectic clothing and jewelry. She reminded Hermione of Professor Trelawney but with a much kinder face. Her name was Mrs. Muff and she told Hermione that she was selling the space for two thousand galleons, the same price she'd bought it years ago when she had been Hermione's age. When Hermione had asked when she was going out of business, Mrs. Muff told her that she and her daughter, Sabrina, had run the place, but when her daughter died a few years back, she didn't have the heart to keep up the shop. This really struck Hermione deep. She told Mrs. Muff her idea for the place and asked her if she'd like to work for her. The old lady was delighted. In honor of Mrs. Muff's daughter, Hermione called the shop "Sabrina's."

Sabrina's was already open when Hermione got there. Her three friends were inside setting up for the day. "Thank you to whoever opened up today. Sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed as she hung her coat, scarf, and hat in the back room.

"You're welcome!" came Neville's voice from behind the coffee counter.

Mrs. Muff came tottering in with a mug of a steaming rich brown liquid in her hands. "Here, love. Neville made this hot chocolate for you. It'll warm you inside out in no time!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Muff." Hermione smiled warmly, taking a sip from the mug. It was delicious. "And thank you again, Neville!"

"You're welcome again!"

The rest of the day past quite smoothly until, that evening when she was getting ready to lock up, the phone rang.

Not only did she use owl post at Sabrina's, but she also used a Muggle way of communicating. Usually, whomever contacted her that way had some Muggle blood in them. Unless of course, it was Ron, who'd become rather fond of the "fellytone", now that he knew how to use it properly.

"You guys go on and go, I'll finish locking up," Hermione said, heading for the phone. Her friends bade her goodbye and left.

As she picked up the receiver, a strange feeling in her stomach told her that there was only one voice she wanted to hear on the other line.

"Herms!"

"Ron…"

"You alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. Really."

"Anyways, you'll _never_ guess who's come back!"

Hermione's heart fell. Apparently, Harry hadn't said anything about coming to see her first. "Who?"

"Harry! Harry's back!"

She felt slightly dazed. "Wow…"

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah… Yes, I'm just…wow. Woo! I'm… in shock." It was the truth. She tried desperately to change her tone. "I'm excited!"

He took the bait. "Isn't it great? I was thinking, let's get together tonight for dinner. What do you say? We'll pick you up. Be ready at eight."

"Umm…" Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn't show her true feelings. Not now. "Sure!"

"Won't it be great? The three of us. Like old times! See you at eight!"

Click! Ron hung up.

'_Like old times?'_ Hermione thought. _'If only.'_

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Wow, can you believe I wrote that all in only two or three days? I should do this more often. I hope everyone enjoyed it and is eager for the next chapter. Please review and tell me what you think of it. Until next time…


	4. Dinner with Friends?

Hellooooo everyone! Quick update, non? So! I really hope you like this one. Sorry the previous one was so short but it was necessary for this one to happen. This one's really juicy and tres tres interesting!

**Please read this (TRES IMPORTANT): **All Ron and Hermione have ever done thus far, is cuddle (as in hugging) and a little bit of making out. Just so we're clear. ;)

**And this (ALSO TRES IMPORTANT):** I really need more reviews guys. I don't think I'll put up chapter 5 until I get **over 30 reviews.** So help me to get it up there please!

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 4: "Dinner with…Friends?"

Clothes were strewn everywhere and Hermione stood in the midst of them. Every one of her dresses, skirts, and flouncy tops were either hung lazily on the back of her desk chair or lain all over her bed. She just couldn't decide what to wear.

Was this a formal dinner or was it one of those casual get-together things? What were Harry and Ron going to wear?

Finally, after much debate, she settled on a short strapless lacy black number and a pair of sexy turquoise round-toe 4-inch-heel Mary Janes. Once dressed, she pulled up her silky curls with two ebony chopsticks.

As she swept kohl pencil along her lash lines, she wondered about Harry. Why hadn't he told Ron about going to see her? Of course, he could have left out the tiny itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny detail of sleeping in her bed…with her still in it. But in any case, he still could have told Ron that he'd gone to see her. Ron wouldn't have done anything. Or at least, she didn't _think_ so.

There was a knock at her door. Quickly, Hermione finished applying her lip-gloss and threw it in a little black purse she was taking along.

She sighed. She trusted Harry, so she had to play along.

When Hermione opened the door, Harry and Ron stood grinning at her. She was glad she'd worn something dressy, for her two friends were both wearing tuxes.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked rather convincingly, throwing her arms around his neck. "It's been so long!" She could feel him breath her in. She ignored it.

"It has…" Harry voiced softly when Hermione released him.

A short silence followed where they all stood smiling at each other like silly gits. "So come in! Come in!" Hermione broke the silence, ushering them into her apartment.

"You look great, but you better get yourself a coat, Herms," Ron advised. "It's freezing outside."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I almost forgot! Well go ahead, sit down while I get my things. Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks," Ron answered.

"No thank you, Hermione," replied Harry.

Hermione hurried back to her room. Darting to and fro, she gathered the different things she needed: her jewelry, purse, and a fur-collared coat from her closet.

Wow, so the two boys she'd ever _really _deeply cared for were sitting in her living room and were now about to take her to dinner. Hermione had never been particularly wonderful when it came to Divination, but she could already tell that this wasn't going to be the most comfortable dinner in the world, at least for _her._

After taking one last look around for anything she'd forgotten, Hermione motioned her hand and the lights were off. She was thankful that she now knew how to do magic without a wand.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Hermione stated as she waltzed back into the sitting room. Both men rose.

"You really do look amazing, 'Mione," Harry said, a sad little smile on his face.

"Definitely!" agreed Ron with a grin, not noticing Harry's expression. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Hermione snaked her arm through Ron's extended elbow. They walked out of the apartment together with Harry following close behind.

Just as there was a Knight Bus, there were also Knight Taxis, only these weren't _as_ maniacal as the Bus. It promptly dropped them off at a rather posh restaurant in Hogsmeade Village called _'Le Fleur de Magie.'_ The Flower of Magic.

Hermione shivered as she stepped out of the taxi. Ron placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her near. She smiled, he was always so sweet. A faint smell of lavender lingered about it. It smelled nice, but she didn't recognize it. _'Maybe it's a new soap,'_ she thought, making a mental note to ask him about it later.

Turning her head back, she saw Harry staring around him in all directions, probably remembering it from their days at Hogwarts.

A large muscular wizard in a suit who kept eyeing Hermione, took her coat just inside the door of the restaurant and a tall, blonde witch seated them at a small table in a nice spot by the window.

Ron and Harry immediately jumped into conversation. Harry told them the same story he'd told Hermione the night before about leaving the Ministry. He was more melancholy this time than depressed. When he began talking about Ginny, Ron went quiet, then he told Harry, "Look, mate. I'm sorry, but she called sometime back about it. She said she'd fallen for someone else. It's not your fault, Harry—she said it wasn't. Ginny just said that you were always so busy, and she understood that, but she… she well… she's gone back to Dean."

"As in Dean Thomas?" Harry wondered.

"The one and only," Ron admitted quietly.

Harry sighed. Hermione could tell he was trying his hardest to hold back tears. "Well, I'm glad she found someone who can take care of her…"

"Let's just get off the subject for tonight, eh?" Ron suggested. Then he began talking to Harry about the latest Chudley Cannons game.

Hermione tried to say something—anything—a few times, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. All she did was stare at her distorted reflection in her champagne glass, trying not to cry and listen to the blur of voices around her. By the time Harry and Ron had finished their meals, she had only nibbled on hers. Harry hadn't said anything to her the entire evening and barely looked at her. What was wrong with him? She took a deep breath trying to calm herself.

"You alright there, Hermione?" Ron asked. Noticing her pallid complexion, he leaned closer to her and took her chin between his thumb and index finger. She felt Harry tense at her side.

"Of course, I'm fine." Hermione tried to shake her feelings away, but couldn't. "I'm just going to go use the bathroom. I'll be back in a bit." She got up shakily and headed for the restroom, leaving her friends to look after her in concern.

Hermione leaning against one of the many beautiful green and white marble sinks and exhaled loudly. Then she did something she knew her dentist parents would kill her for if they saw her do it, she pulled out a cigarette, lit it up, and took a big, long drag._ 'Pull yourself together!'_ she scolded herself for the second time in two days. She took another drag and held the smoke in for a while before letting it out. So what if Harry didn't tell Ron? It wasn't such a big deal. Harry could do what he wanted. It wasn't like she was his girlfriend or something. She loved Ron and Ron loved her. She couldn't believe that she's doubted her feelings for him at all.

Taking one final drag, she flick the cigarette into the toilet and flushed it down. Then she examined her reflection in the mirror. Perfect. Confidently, she sashayed out of the bathroom and back to the table.

She slid into her seat and with fluid motion, leaned over to Ron, placed her hand on his forearm, and murmured, "I think I'm finished. Let's go home." Then she whispered, "You can spend the night…"

Ron's face immediately lit and his hand shot in the air. "Check please!"

Harry looked confused as Hermione gave him an innocent smile.

Once they'd paid and left the restaurant, they piled back into a Knight Taxi. "The Three Broomsticks," Harry told the driver, he'd gotten a room there for the time being. During the short ride there, Harry kept giving Hermione strange looks, like he was hurt. She pretended not to pay any attention.

They both waved goodbye to him as he got out of the taxi. As the taxi speed away, Hermione looked back to see Harry standing on the sidewalk staring after them.

Hermione kept fumbling with the keys to her apartment as she tried to unlock it. Eventually, Ron had to do it for her. They dropped all there things on the chair by the door and turned to each other.

Suddenly Hermione pulled the chopsticks out of her hair, threw them on the floor and jumped into Ron's arms. As they captured each other's mouths with their own, Ron backed her up into a wall and let her down.

Their tongues battled as Ron played with the coils in her hair. He snaked his arm around behind Hermione and began unzipping her dress while she unbuttoned his shirt. Once her dress had slipped down to her ankles and she had kicked it off, he helped her pull off his pants and he kicked them off too.

One hand cupped Hermione's neck as the other traveled lower to her breast. She arched her back and felt herself getting warm when his fingers circled the tiny little flower-shaped pasty over her nipple. She lifted one leg with its still Mary-Jane-clad foot and hugged his waist. This would be her first time.

Then, as he began to peel the flower on her right breast off, she panicked. "Stop," she whispered. He didn't listen; he'd finished peeling off one and was now peeling off the other. "Stop!" she shrieked and pushed Ron away.

He stood there, about five feet away from her, the two small flowers in his hand, staring at her, bewildered for a good minute. Then he said, "But I thought you wanted…"

"I know…" Hermione trailed off. She lifted her arms and crossed them over her naked breasts and stared at the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm just not ready." When she looked up, Ron was already getting dressed. "You're going…?"

"Yeah," he stated gruffly. After his pants were on, he crumpled the pasties and threw them on the floor. They landed right next to Hermione's feet. "You know what, Hermione? You're a tease! You get me up and you leave me hanging!" He'd buttoned his shirt by now and was heading for the door. Hermione hadn't moved from her position; she was quiet as stone. "What the hell do you want, huh? If I hadn't put my foot down and told you we had to get married this winter, you would've kept on putting it off. WHY?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. She couldn't answer him because she herself didn't know why. What was she waiting for?

As if reading her mind Ron demanded, "What are you waiting for, huh?" When she didn't answer, he rolled his eyes, pulled on his jacket and shove his tie in its pocket. Opening the door, he took one last look at her before shaking his head and walking out.

A long time passed where Hermione didn't move. Then, she knelt down and picked up the crumpled flowers. He'd peeled these off her breast. Why hadn't she wanted him to? She looked down at her breasts. Why hadn't she wanted him to see them? Why had she freaked out like that? After all, she was going to marry him. He was right, what the hell _was_ she waiting for?

Sighing, Hermione got up, walked to her bedroom, and lay sprawled on her bed face up. She swirled a finger around her navel absentmindedly. That was the second time someone she cared for had left; walked out her door. So, why wasn't she crying this time? She was sad…but she wasn't crying.

Groping in the darkness to get her shoes off, she kicked them off and crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head, trying not to think about anything.

As she drifted off to sleep, only wearing her underwear, one name rang in her head: _Harry_.

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Weee! How'd everyone like it? Bit racier this time, huh? Review please!


	5. A Visit From Him

We're up to chapter five! It seems like just yesterday I birthed this little baby! tear tear Alright! 'Nuff blubbering! I've brought Harry back! Yay! dances

**ATTENTION:** Thank you SOOOO much to everyone who has reviewed thus far. You helped me get over the 30 review mark! You're all stars! And a special thanks to mon lovely beta reader: quirkyslayer. What would I have done without you, cherie?

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 5: "A Visit From Him"

For the next few days, Hermione barely got out of bed, and one of the few times she did was just to put on a t-shirt so she wouldn't catch pneumonia. She also kept getting owls. They would rap on her bedroom window about half a dozen times a day. Finally, she got so sick of having to get up to let them in that she left the window open and put a bowl of owl treats by the sill. That way, an owl could just drop its letter onto the rather large pile that was accumulating on the floor by the window, take a treat (though, they often took more than one…greedy buggers) and fly back out without disturbing her. Whenever Hermione heard their squawking and chirping, she'd moan, turn around and pull the covers over her head.

She spent the long hours of the day brooding. First she was depressed and began blaming herself, thinking that she'd pushed Ron away not only physically, but emotionally as well. Then, she became extremely angry at him. Who did he think he was? Being the star Keeper of Puddlemere United did not make him the boss of her. She thought that if he loved her as much as he claimed he did, he would wait for her until kingdom come. After all, they weren't married yet. Didn't he value a "virgin bride?" Who was she kidding? No guy valued that bunch of bullocks. Nevertheless, Hermione still believed that if he loved her, he'd wait without question.

Her thoughts then took a turn towards Harry. Oh, was she ever angry with him. If he had just told Ron that he'd gone to see her, none of this would have happened. She wouldn't have lost her mind and invited Ron to "stay the night." And what a night _that_ turned out to be.

Hermione wasn't going to answer, let alone _read_ any owls from either one of them. True, Luna or someone else from work may have sent a message, but she dared not open one lest it be from one of the two Hermione-proclaimed "pariahs".

Sunday was her day off of work, so that was good. But she didn't go to work on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday either. Hermione knew they'd be worried, yet she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were very quiet except for the owls visiting at random intervals, but on Wednesday, her doorbell rang.

Groaning, Hermione reluctantly ejected herself out of her bed wrapped in her blanket and shuffled to the door. "Go away, Ron!" she yelled when she was right in front of it. Silence. Then a knock, a very soft one. "I said go away!" Another silence. Then another knock, this one was so quiet it was barely audible. _'That's it!'_

Whipping the door open, Hermione opened her mouth and began to say, "I told you to—" but stopped short. Instead of Ron at the doorway, there stood the other "pariah": Harry.

"Hermione…" Harry looked at her with an irresistible expression of pleading.

"You!" Hermione spat. With that, she proceeded to slam the door shut in his beautiful face, but he was too quick. Harry's hand flew out and stopped the door just in time.

"Ron told me to check up on you," Harry spoke with concern, entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.

"Oh really?" Hermione walked away from him, too tired to try and kick him out. She prayed that Ron hadn't told him every detail of their night together.

"Yeah, really. He knew you'd kick _him_ out right away if he came himself."

"Oh really?" Hermione repeated, wheeling around. "If he loves me, he shouldn't care if I kick him out or not. Why didn't he come here himself?"

Harry looked down at the floor, shrugged, and mumbled, "I just told you, he knew you'd—"

"Hey! Did you come here just to insult me? If you did, go away!"

Immediately, Hermione felt bad about what she'd said. Harry looked at her, hurt—his emerald eyes revealing the depths of his heart that sent a pang of regret reverberating throughout her being.

"Look," she said, softer this time. "I'm really not in the mood for this right now. Please, just go away."

To her surprise, Harry approached her, lifted a lock of her lifeless curls, and asked, "When was the last time you had a bath, 'Mione?"

"What? I don't know—Sunday morning when I tried to drown myself in the shower."

"Alright then, c'mere." Harry swept her off her feet and into his arms. The blanket fell to the floor as he headed for the bathroom.

"Oh my God! _Please_ put me down!"

"No!"

"Grr!"

"Grr all you want, you're _not_ getting your way this time."

'_When do I ever?'_ thought Hermione.

Upon entering the bathroom, Harry gently placed Hermione in the tub, but kept a firm hold on her shoulder to prevent her from getting up while he put the plug in the drain and turned on the water.

Hermione, still clothed, yelped when the water rushed towards her.

"Okay now," Harry told her. "I'm going to leave so you can bathe, but you have to promise me you won't get up and leave."

A sigh escaped Hermione's throat. "Okay, I promise."

After stopping to look at Hermione again with that same concerned expression on his face, he left, closing the door behind him.

Hermione took off her clothes and let the water rise to the brim before shutting it off. She sat there for a long time, frozen. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Hermione?"

"What…"

"Just making sure you're not trying to 'drown yourself' again."

She didn't answer and heard his footsteps recede. Hermione washed and then got out. She dried herself off and left after donning a bathrobe.

Upon entering her bedroom, she found Harry sitting at the edge of her bed, staring at her. She met his gaze, and for the first time since he'd come back, Hermione actually noticed that he wasn't wearing glasses anymore. Gosh, he looked good in that white shirt that was open down to _there._

Harry patted the spot next to him, ushering her forward. She obliged, but a permanent scowl was painted on her face.

"Are you angry with me?" he ventured after a period of uneasy silence.

'_What do you think?'_ Hermione snapped in her head, but aloud she said nothing, choosing only to stare at the fuzzy carpeted floor beneath her bare feet.

"I'm sorry, but Ron asked me to come here. I don't even know why you're pissed off at him, he wouldn't tell me. All I know is that he's really sorry and he wants to talk to you. Give him a chance. He's sent you a bunch of owls, but by the looks of that pile over there, you haven't even read them."

Hermione breathed an inner sigh of relief at the idea that Ron hadn't told Harry anything. Still, that wasn't exactly what was on her mind right now. "That's not why I'm angry with you…"

"Then why? Is it because…" He trailed off when Hermione gave him a look as if to say, _'You _know_ why.'_

Another silence ensued. Then Harry said, "I can't explain why I never told him, not now. It's just…I can't. I hope you can forgive me for that. I will tell you…one day. You'll see. I promise."

Neither of them knew what to say after that. Then, precisely at the same moment, they looked up at each other and locked eyes. Harry's emerald eyes trapped Hermione's chocolate ones; she couldn't tear them away to save herself from the scintillating bait that his held. As his face drew close, he dazzled her. So much in fact, that her eyes began to close and she moved nearer to him as well. This was wrong, _so_ wrong. His slightly parted lips were so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her. He smelled good, and that enticed her even more.

Just as their lips were to touch, Hermione noticed his warm breath was gone. Her eyes fluttered open to find that Harry had pulled away and was looking at her with a yearning that was bursting to break free. Merlin, how much those jewels of his could express.

Her gaze fell and she bit her lip. She'd almost cheated on Ron! With his best friend! What was wrong with her? Was it cold feet? Or something more…

"Well umm…" Harry murmured. "I guess I'll be going. What shall I tell Ron? Will you speak to him now?"

"Yeah, I will. Tell him to come over tonight and that we're going to _talk_. Be sure to stress that."

"Alright, I will. Oh, and Neville wanted me to tell you that he and Luna are throwing a Christmas Eve party at his place on Saturday evening, and they wanted to know if you'd be there."

"I guess I will be. Are _you_ going?"

"Yeah I am. Okay well…I'm going to go." Harry got up off the bed to leave.

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed.

Startled, Harry turned to face her. "What?"

"Umm…how are things with Ginny?"

"Oh…" Harry sounded disappointed. "I called her Monday night and we talked…for a very _long_ time. We're friends now. I guess her leaving me wasn't as big of a shock as I made it out to be. I was actually really so down about it because I thought I had no one to turn to until…"

"…yes?"

"Until…until I came to you."

Hermione smiled and Harry returned the gesture.

"I'm going to go," Harry said.

"I'll walk you out."

When they approached the door, Harry turned to Hermione and pulled her into an embrace. She felt so serene and safe in his arms. It was the best feeling she'd had all week.

"Bye, 'Mione," said Harry when they'd parted.

"Bye Harry."

He pushed a lock of her damp, but clean curls behind her ear before walking out. She closed the door behind him.

That night, Hermione sat on the couch waiting for Ron to come, but he never did. By midnight, she began to fall asleep. She awoke from a distant dream at around three in the morning and looked around to see if Ron was there. After all, he did have a key. He wasn't there; she was all alone.

Had Harry forgotten to tell Ron to meet her? No, she trusted Harry to do as she asked and tell Ron. Either Ron had forgotten to come or he didn't want to. Despite the fact that this disappointed Hermione, it didn't hurt her as much as she thought it would. She was tired, _so _tired. She didn't even feel like talking about it anymore.

The next morning, Ron eventually came over while Hermione was getting ready for work.

"Umm…Hermione? I'm sorry I couldn't be there last night and I'm sorry about—"

He was cut off. Hermione had rushed over to him and placed her fingers over his mouth. "Shh…" she whispered. "Please don't explain. I don't need to know anything. I forgive you for everything."

"Really?" Ron asked with excitement when she'd lowered her hand.

"Really." And then, Hermione kissed him. Even though it was an empty kiss and she felt like crying when she did it, she did it anyway. Ron didn't seem to notice.

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Another chapter done! The next one will be mostly about the Christmas Eve party. Should be interesting! Well, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Please tell me your thoughts by reviewing. Until next time!


	6. Christmas Eve

Here it is! The long-awaited sixth chapter. This one's got the Christmas Eve party in it as you can tell by the chapter's title. I think this is my longest chapter yet. I really hope everyone likes it. Please don't forget to review when you're done reading it.

And THANK YOU VERY MUCH once again to my beta, quirkyslayer and ALL my wonderful reviewers. You're the fuel that keeps this story going. Much love to everyone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry. Wish I did though…

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 6: "Christmas Eve"

Her boot-clad feet clunked against the cement sidewalk. As she hurried to work, thoughts about her wedding bombarded her.

Her mother had told her that the plans for her wedding were being taken care of and that everything was set in motion. That was the thing about her mum; she took great pleasure in planning it all herself and said that all Hermione had to do was walk down the aisle. She trusted her mother's taste, so she let her do anything she wanted. Besides, Hermione didn't have the patience or attention span for something like _planning a wedding_. So who was she to argue?

The tiny bell above the door chimed when she entered Sabrina. "Once again, thanks to whomever opened up today," Hermione called out. "And I'm so very sorry for being out these past couple of days!"

"It's okay, sweetie!" Luna assured, approaching Hermione and hugging her. Neville and Ms. Muff came out of the back room. "Harry told us everything. Isn't it just _wonderful_ that he's back?"

Hermione froze. He told them _everything_? That wasn't exactly like him to do that. She'd expect it out of Ron, but _Harry_? "He…did?" Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to sound nonchalant.

"Of course!" Ms. Muff piped up, taking Hermione hand and patting it gently. "That nice young man came around here yesterday evening, just before we closed up, and told us you've been so sick these past few days that you could barely get out of bed. We're so glad you've recuperated."

"Oh…" Hermione said feebly, coughing weakly for effect. "Yeah, I'm much better now though."

"And it's great to hear it!" Neville gave her a huge bear hug, almost lifting her off the ground.

"So yeah! Isn't it great that he's back?" Luna queried when Hermione was in the back room taking off her coat, scarf, and hat.

"Who?"

"Harry of course!"

"Oh…yeah! It's great! Really great!"

Luna giggled. "I had to go out and buy another gift yesterday after he came."

"A gift?"

"Yes a gift! Duh! For Christmas. You _have_ done your Christmas shopping, haven't you?"

In all honesty, she hadn't. With all that had been going on lately, Hermione had completely forgotten about it. "Umm…"

Luckily, she didn't have to think up an excuse because Luna said, "Well if you haven't you better do it soon. My party's on Saturday. Harry told me that you were coming. You _are_ coming right? Anyway, everyone has to bring the gift they bought for the person they bring with them. Your person is of course, Ron. It's like a Secret Santa, only not so secret. 'cause I know who everyone's person is. You know?"

"I think so," Hermione replied, hoping she understood Luna's usual airiness.

"Oh, and do you mind getting a gift for Harry, too? Since he's not really going out with anyone right now, I don't know who to pair him with and I don't want him to be without a gift."

Hermione didn't answer, feeling a twinge of sadness in her chest. _'Poor Harry…'_

"Well?"

"Huh? Oh, sure."

That evening, after closing up, Hermione went Christmas shopping. First, she would shop for Ron's gift. _Ron_…Hermione had left him this morning with a false sense of security that she'd done the right thing. She'd accepted Ron's apology without question or need of an excuse. Sometimes, she really thought herself stupid, but hey, this was the guy she was going to marry, so she needed to learn not to forgive him so easily. And anyway, that night was partly her fault, which was why her present to him would be dinner reservations on Christmas night at the new hot restaurant run by the Patil sisters. It was called _'Patils' Petals.'_ Cheesy name; great food.

For Luna, Hermione opted for the newest broomstick-shaped earrings that zoomed after anything shiny and gold if you weren't careful. And for Neville, she picked up a rare first-edition copy of _'Herbology: The Backbone of the Wizarding World'_ from a used bookstore. After shopping for almost anyone else she could think of, Hermione stopping at The Three Broomsticks to take a break and think of what to get the only person left on her list: Harry.

Madame Rosemerta came to Hermione's table in the back corner of the pub by the window and asked her what she would like. "One bottle of Butterbeer, please," Hermione answered.

"Comin' right up, love."

As she sipped her drink, Hermione spent a lot of time thinking about what to get Harry. She wracked her brain, but with all the different things she could think of, nothing seemed good enough for him.

Then, suddenly the very person she was mulling about came down the stairs from the inn on the floor above. His heather grey, ribbed turtleneck and khaki pants hugged his gorgeous body in all the right places. Hermione remembered the incident in her bathroom when he had first come to see her and blushed. She watched as he casually placed his elbows on the bar counter and leaned over to ask Madame Rosemerta for a beverage. He took the butterbeer she handed him with gratitude and turn around, propping his lower back against the counter. As he drank, his eyes scanned the crowd of people sitting at the tables and found Hermione. They locked eyes and froze, and their moments intertwined. Harry then crossed the room, heading toward her.

When she realized that he was approaching her, she relieved the stool next to her of all the Christmas merchandise. He slid onto it gracefully.

"Hey," he greeted her in a low husky voice that made her shiver.

"Hi…"

"Glad to see you out and about. Christmas shopping?"

"Yeah."

"Taking a break?"

"Yup."

Harry silently nodded, then eyed Hermione slyly, turning a quick peek at her packages. "Anything in there for me?"

A devilish smile crept onto Hermione's face. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

They were quiet for a while, each one fiddling with their own bottle of Butterbeer. "Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you so much. You know, for the other day. That was really sweet of you. Even though you did put me in the tub with my clothes still on."

"Would you rather me have taken them off first?" teased Harry playfully.

"No!" Hermione yelped a little too quickly. Then, more relaxed: "No. Leaving them on was the right thing."

Hermione felt uncomfortable, and she could sense that Harry felt the same. She hoped that she hadn't offended him, but then again, it wasn't like he was her _boyfriend_…

"So are you going to Luna and Neville's party with anyone?" Hermione asked, wondering if Luna was right, secretly hoping she was.

Harry shook his head, biting at his bottom lip that was turning red.

"Well, it's okay!" Hermione exclaimed in an overly chipper tone. "It's not like it's mandatory!" Harry looked up at her with melancholy eyes. Bloody brilliant, she had tried to make things better but seemed to have only made them worse.

"You're going with Ron then?" he wondered in a small voice after a while, though it sounded more like an obvious statement rather than a question.

"Yeah…" Hermione replied, her voice equally small. Her gaze fell; she didn't know what to say. On the one hand, she really wanted him to have someone to go with. But on the other hand, for some reason…she didn't.

When she glimpsed up, his face was so close to hers—closer in fact, than the previous day. His beautiful green eyes drank more of her in with every second. Ever inch of her trembled, and it wasn't because of the cold draft of air that came in with each new customer of The Three Broomsticks. No. It was his warmth that made her tremble. She didn't know what to do or what to think or what to feel. An overwhelming feeling of yearning filled her. She couldn't keep doing this. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. Not able to take it anymore, she stumbled out of her seat and, gathering her bags, fled the pub. Hermione kept running until she couldn't hear Harry's voice call her name anymore.

When Hermione got home that night she immediately felt bad about what she'd done to Harry. In a way, it was more her fault than his. She felt like she was leading him on. But…why? She wouldn't really lead anyone on. She only reacted to those who, or rather _he_ who…

No. She couldn't think about that now. Hermione had to figure out what to give Harry. It had to be something to make it up for running away from him, and she knew just the thing.

Hermione took a piece of parchment and cut four small squares the size of business cards from it. Then she pierced a hole through the side of each of them before stringing them and tying them together with a ribbon. On the first card she wrote _'Dinner With a Friend'_, on the second _'Coffee on Hermione'_, on the third _'One Shoulder Massage'_, and one the fourth she wrote _'Reusable: Someone To Talk To.'_ Then, she looked at it and smiled proudly at her homemade coupon book. Whenever he wanted to do any of the things that were on the cards, he would give her that card and they would do it—except for the last one. That one he would keep and could use for as long as he liked.

Hermione finished and felt anxious. She hoped Harry could forgive her.

Saturday evening came around quickly. By the time Ron can to pick Hermione up, she was fully dressed and ready. When he knocked, she gave herself one last once-over in her full-length mirror. Her curls were down and flowed nicely over her shoulders. She wore a short white dress that had a ruffled, tiered skirt and strappy, silver stilettos. She felt absolutely perfect.

"Hey! You look absolutely ravishing!" Ron greeted her excitedly at the door. "Ready to go?"

"Yup," Hermione answered, putting on her coat and shouldering her purse. She took his hand and they left.

The first thing Hermione saw when the door to Neville's apartment opened was Luna's enormous smile. "Oh my gosh! You guys look wonderful!"

Both Ron and Hermione thanked her graciously.

"So come in!" Luna exclaimed, excitedly ushering them inside out of the cold.

Neville took their coats and hung them in the closet by the door when they entered. Hermione peered around at the apartment.

The place was beautiful. Tiny pea-sized stars were drifting to and fro everywhere. Brilliant tufts of a cloud-like shimmering material illuminated and covered the floor, giving the impression of sparkling snow. There was a huge Christmas tree in the sitting room. It was adorned with a dazzling assortment of decorations from the traditional Muggle-type popcorn-on-a-string to the Wizarding world's own Silent Mini-Fireworks. These exploded at random intervals in various places on the tree sending rainbow sparks flying everywhere, but held no noise. Tiny fairies whizzed about the tree, striking it with their microscopic wands every now and then, changing the color of it from green, to red, to white, to gold, and back again. A large jewel-encrusted, golden star sat atop the tree proudly.

Quite a few of the guests had already arrived. Parvati Patil and Fred Weasley, Padma Patil and George Weasley, Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley, and Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan were just a few of the couples socializing.

"Welcome, welcome!" Luna exclaimed. "You can give your gifts whenever you like. Food and drinks are at that table over there." She pointed to a long table, which was placed conveniently off to the side of the sitting room, heaped with all kinds of food such as turkey, thick rich gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding and cake, trifle, and eggnog. It all looked so inviting. "Well…have fun!"

Once Luna had gone to join Neville in his conversation with Bill, Hermione turned to Ron and said, "My gift to you is reservations at Parvati's and Padma's new restaurant, _'Patils' Petals,'_ for tomorrow night. I thought, you know, maybe…we could make a better go of a date than what happened last time…"

"I'd like that," Ron said, smiling. "Thank you."

Hermione smiled back. Ron moved closer to her to kiss her, but he only kissed her forehead.

"Oh yes, now it's your turn." He pulled a long red leather box from his pocket and handed it to her. "Open it."

Hermione held the box tenderly, and in an excited motion, she opened it. A sparkling diamond bracelet rested inside. "Ron!" Hermione gasped. "It's beautiful, thank you!"

"Here," Ron offered, taking the bracelet from the box and fastening it onto her wrist. "Look's great."

"It is." She smiled prettily at his gesture.

"Now," Ron said, kissing Hermione on the cheek this time. "Go mingle." And he left to go talk with Lavender and Seamus.

Hermione stood alone for a few moments, clutching her purse, not knowing what to do or who to talk to. Why did Ron have to leave her like that? Everyone she looked at seemed already engaged in a conversation. She didn't feel like intruding on any of them. Then she saw Harry, standing off to the side in the same situation as her. He looked around, not knowing who to talk to.

She moved toward him, slowly. He stared at her, the expression on his face was pained, yet grateful.

"Listen Harry, I—" Hermione cut herself off when she noticed that Harry's gaze was no longer on her, but past her. She followed it to the entrance of the sitting room where Luna was showing in Ginny Weasley and her beau, Dean Thomas. The long red glittering gown Ginny wore and her pale, freckled shoulders that were wrapped in white fur, caused the male population of the room to gawk at her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

The first thing Ginny did upon entering was beam at Harry. He returned the gesture and then whispered, "I need some air." Opening the sliding door to the balcony, he stepped out into the night.

Hermione followed him, but stopped just at the threshold to glance back at Ron. He was laughing a bit too over-enthusiastically at a joke that Lavender had apparently just told. It appeared that he wouldn't notice if Hermione was gone. She stepped outside.

Harry was leaning against the railing's edge and staring up at the night sky when Hermione approached him. She set a careful but calming hand on his arm, and he turned to face her.

"Harry, I… I want to give you something." Pulling out the tiny booklet she'd made Thursday evening, she placed it in his hand.

"What's this?"

"This is my Christmas present to you." Then she explained to him how to use it.

"I like this last one a lot," Harry said, fingering the card the read: _'Reusable: Someone To Talk To.'_

Hermione couldn't hold it in; it just all came spilling out of her. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry about leaving you like that the other day, I—"

Harry traced a line down her cheek with the back of his forefinger. "Shh…it's okay. I forgive you. But…will you do something for me?"

"Sure." At that moment, Hermione felt ready to do anything.

"Close your eyes."

"Alright…" Hermione complied, nervously. She heard a tinkling sound and then Harry's hands went behind her neck.

"Now…open."

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and felt and extra weight on her neck, just above the center of her bust. When she looked down, she found she was wearing a beautiful oval-shaped antique locket. Carefully, she lifted it in awe to see an elaborate fleur-de-lis engraved on it. "Oh Harry…" Hermione could barely speak. "I love it!"

"You do?" Harry asked, hopeful and relieved to her response.

"Of course!"

She made a motion to open it, but Harry's fingers closed over hers, stopping her. "Don't open it," he whispered. "Not now."

"Okay." Hermione shivered, realizing that snow was starting to lightly fall and she didn't have a coat or anything to keep her warm.

"Come here," Harry told her, holding out his arms and Hermione obeyed. She encircled his waist with her arms, and he surrounded her shoulders with his. As she rested her head on his chest, her heartbeat quickened. She could hear his as well and discovered it was beating just as fast. The sound of his pulse comforted her, as his scent filled her senses. He smelled like fresh cut grass and spring rain. Curiously, she wasn't as nervous as she had been during previous moments of this kind of closeness with him. Hermione could feel Harry lay his cheek on the top of her head.

"You hair is really soft," he sighed.

Hermione giggled.

A soft and quiet version of _'Greensleeves'_ began to play from inside the apartment. Harry and Hermione moved their feet together in a slow dance.

"I love it when it snows," commented Hermione.

"Me too," Harry added.

"And it's even better when there's someone to keep you warm."

"Yeah…"

Time passed swiftly. They stayed outside in their embrace until the clock struck midnight. Harry glanced down at Hermione.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

Then they went to join the uproar that had commenced inside. And though everyone else had been cheering, Harry and Hermione knew that they were the happiest two people in the entire room.

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Whew! Chapter 6 done! I hope you enjoyed it immensely, as I did when writing it. Please review and tell me.

STAY TUNED NEXT TIME FOR: Hermione's Christmas dinner with Ron! Should be _quite_ interesting…


	7. The Perfect Date

Been quite a while hasn't it my dear chums? I'd say it's been about two and a half months if I'm not mistaken. I hope you're all still reading this story. So sorry I haven't written. School has kept me quite the busy beaver. But here it is! I've managed to get this baby down in just a few days.

Thank you to everyone who's supported me and my work so far! You rock!

And a special thanks to quirkyslayer and Meager Words. You're stars.

Disclaimer: Don't own HP.

Enjoy!

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Everything Is Just Roses

Chapter 7: "The Perfect Date"

Slowly, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Managing to lift her heavy head up, she peered around and found herself curled up on the couch still clad in her dress from the previous night. Then, she realized she was all alone.

Alone. Alone on Christmas morning.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall as she loosened her overly tight embrace on the pillow on which she had been sleeping. Eight o'clock. Where the bloody hell was Ron?

If she remembered correctly, she, Ron, Lavender, Dean and Harry had all left the party together the night before. Ron let Harry ride with Hermione in one taxi and told them he'd be right behind them in another with Dean and Lavender.

Harry and Hermione's taxi stopped in front of her apartment. Harry had told the driver to keep the meter running and wait for him. He stepped out and followed Hermione up the front steps of her building.

Wordlessly, Harry picked up Hermione's hand and placed a soft kiss on it. He then allowed his lips to gently brush her forehead. "I had a wonderful time tonight," he told her. "Thank you."

A strange emotion filled her insides and she could do nothing but softly echo his gratitude with her own, almost inaudible, thank you.

When she'd gone up to her flat, she sat waiting for Ron. Nearly an hour had passed and nothing. _'Where the bloody hell is he!'_ She owled Luna who promptly sent back a reply saying that he'd left already. Then she tried owling Ron himself and sat on the couch waiting. Sleep overtook her two hours later when she still hadn't received an answer.

A gentle tapping at her living room window jolted Hermione out of her memories. Tripping over her discarded strappy heels in her haste to stand, she padded to the window and opened it, letting in a tiny silvery grey owl. Discovering it was from the one person she was waiting to hear from, she was about to rip open the note when the owl flew up to her shoulder and cooed into her ear.

"Oh! I'm sorry sweetie, you must be famished!" Quickly hurrying to the kitchen, Hermione retrieved two tiny bowls from the cupboard, filled one with owl feed and the other with water, and doubled back to the living to set the bowls on the window sill. The petite owl nourished itself gratefully and flew back out into the morning air.

When the owl had gone, Hermione sat on the sofa and eagerly tore open the note from Ron. Her eyes ravenously devoured the words on the small piece of parchment. It read:

_Hermione,_

_Sorry I couldn't make it to your place last night. After we dropped Dean off at his place, we hit loads of traffic. With all the people going home to see their families…you know how it is. So we stayed at an inn close by. Anyways, I won't be able to make it to you until late this evening 'cause Lavender's got tickets for the Christmas Day Quidditch Match. And guess who's playing? Yup! Chudley Cannons! I swear, I'm on my own professional team, but they've still got themselves a soft spot in my heart. Um, you can come if you want, but I don't think you'll enjoy it very much. Besides, Lavender only got two tickets… And she knows how much I like the Cannons… So you have yourself a nice day today. Go home and see _your_ family, eh? I'll be there at ten tonight. 'Fraid I can't get there any earlier 'cause these matches always run overtime. But don't worry, I've already contacted the restaurant and bumped the reservation to a later time; 10:30. What do you think?_

_Ron_

For quite a few minutes, Hermione didn't know _what_ to think. Not just about the reservation time, but the whole thing. It was Christmas day and Ron wanted to spend it with Lavender? Why didn't he just say "To bloody hell with it. I love Hermione and I'm going to _her_" instead of indulging Lavender's whims? What about Hermione whims? Weren't they important? She didn't want to seem like a clingy annoying girlfriend, but even though she knew that Ron adored the Chudley Cannons and all that, she want him to be with _her_. After all, it _was_ Christmas day.

But with all this, Hermione realized that she wasn't as upset as she thought she would normally have been. It was as if lately something in her had changed; like a switch had been turned off…or on. Whatever it was, it was definitely making her react to certain situations a lot differently than usual.

Maybe she would take Ron's suggestion into consideration and go visit her mum and dad. She was positive it would be a welcoming surprise.

Bounding off the couch and dashing to the bathroom, Hermione washed her face, pulled up her messy undone tresses, and changed out of the dress from the preceding night.

Hermione rushed around her bedroom gathering the things she'd need to spend the day at her parents' and threw them into a large tote bag.

After dressing in her coat, scarf, and hat, Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated hard on the one place she wanted to be. Suddenly she felt a pull. _Crack!_

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the driveway of number seven, Millstone Avenue, in a cozy town just outside London. She was home. With each stride towards the front door, Hermione was more and more excited to surprise her parents.

"Coming!" a female voice answered when she rang the bell. Hermione instantly recognized the voice of her mother. The door opened to reveal a petite but slender woman with her light brown hair pinned elegantly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her large brown eyes gazed through thin rectangular spectacles. "Oh my goodness! Hermione!" Her mother immediately drew Hermione towards her, squeezing her tightly in her arms. "Come inside from the cold, love." Hermione obeyed, entering her childhood home and feeling a rush of old memories fill her. It was good to be back. "Jude!" Her mother called out. "Look who's home!"

Hermione's father, a tall lean man, also with light brown hair, and a dignified air about him appeared in the foyer. "Yes, Kate?" Upon seeing his daughter, a huge smile spread across his face exposing very even white teeth. "Sweet pea!" Mr. Granger scooped his daughter into an embrace.

"We thought you weren't coming home this year!" Hermione's mum wondered aloud, as her father took her coat and hung it up it in the closet by the door.

"Well, you know…Ron had this thing to go to…important for work and stuff," Hermione found herself lying. "He was going to come with me, though."

Mrs. Granger nodded, but Hermione could tell she wasn't entirely convinced.

"So sweet pea, why don't you go on up to your room and place your things there and then you can come down to kitchen," her father suggested. "Your mother and I will fix you something nice and healthy."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thanks."

When she entered her old bedroom, Hermione breathed in deeply. She looked around and happiness filled her. No one at Hogwarts ever knew, but her room at home was what she liked to call "cozily sloppy". Small stacks of books were scattered here and there on the thick and fuzzy, light blue carpet, triangular Gryffindor banners adorned the walls along with a couple of posters of the Weird Sisters. A giant, dark red armchair stood by her closet with her winter dressing gown draped over its back and a her favorite teddy bear sat on the seat.

Hermione kicked off her shoes and pulled off her hat and scarf. Throwing them on the chair and picking up her bear, she threw herself on her huge white canopy bed. She loved every part of her room, but her bed was her favorite. The white wispy chiffon curtains surrounded equally snowy white, lacy sheets. She always felt safe in it. Like she did now. Hermione hugged her bear tightly and closed her eyes.

Why had she lied to her mother like that? Because the truth would have sounded awkward and she wasn't in the mood to explain. But she still felt bad lying to her mum. After all, her mother was so excited about this wedding. What would she do?

Looking around her and trying to forget about Ron, Hermione felt happy, really happy. She wished she could come here more often—just apparate in the middle of the night and fall asleep in her old bed. And that was precisely what she proceeded to do; fall asleep.

When she awoke, she found that it was one o'clock in the afternoon.

Quickly, Hermione kissed her bear, placed him on her pillow, and got up to wash her face in the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom.

Mrs. Granger set a plate of fresh cut raw vegetables and a turkey sandwich in front of her daughter when she sat down in the kitchen. "And for good measure…" Her mother placed a mug of steaming hot chocolate by the plate. She then took a seat across from her with a plate and mug of her own.

"So tell me," she began. "How's everything going with Ron?"

"Oh just perfect!" Hermione exclaimed between bites. She realized she was famished, for she hadn't eaten anything all day.

"That's nice to hear. Anything new going on?"

"Well…you remember Harry Potter?" When she said his name, her heart raced.

"Of course. Haven't heard from him lately, have you?"

"Actually…" Hermione told her mother about the events that occurred a week ago, leaving out the fact the Harry had taken a shower in her bathroom and that he'd slept over…in the same bed. She also left out her feelings about the whole ordeal.

"So he's back! That's wonderful!" Her mum's face lit up. "Too bad about him and Ginny, though. We'll have to invite him to the wedding then. Maybe he'll meet someone there."

"Maybe…" Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy. She swirled the chocolate in her mug. "Mum?"

"Yes, love?"

"Um…" How would she say this? "Were you ever about to make a huge decision in your life and then something came and made you think twice, turning your world completely upside down?"

"Hmm…" For a long while Mrs. Granger surveyed her daughter. "Why do you ask?"

"I just… I wanted to know…what would _you_ do if something like that happened to you," Hermione managed to say.

Taking a sip from her mug, Mrs. Granger answered, "Well, I guess I would do what _I_ felt was right in my heart."

Hermione nodded softly.

"Does that help?" her mum inquired.

"Mm hmm, yeah. Yeah, it does. Thanks, Mum."

"You're very welcome, love."

Hermione spent the rest of the day with her parents, enjoying herself more than she had in a very long time. They talked about anything and everything, from her shop to her days at Hogwarts. She didn't even notice the when nine o'clock rolled around, eight hours had gone by.

After getting her things from her room, she was bid her parents goodbye.

When she was back in her apartment in Hogsmeade, Hermione felt like crying. She always got this way after leaving her parents.

By ten o'clock, Hermione was dressed and waiting in her living room for Ron to arrive. She'd put on a short silvery dress and matching strappy sandals she recently purchased especially for this occasion.

Twenty minutes later, agitation began to creep into Hermione. Ron had made a reservation for 10:30 p.m. That was in ten minutes. They were going to be late. Not to mention he was late picking her up. _'He said he'd be here at ten! I'm trying to not be worried, but I'm getting sick of waiting! That's all I ever do!'_

Just then, there was a knock on her door. Ron was standing there to greet when she opened it. "Ready?" he asked, offering his arm.

Hermione didn't budge. "You're late," she told him, her tone slightly perturbed.

Ron's arm fell. "Yeah," he agreed. "Look, I'm really sorry. The match went into overtime like I said, but the Cannons won! Afterwards, they _really_ wanted me to go to their victory party. And well…I'm a star player so I couldn't say no. I mean, they asked me in front of everyone. Anyways, do we _have_ to talk about this now? We're going to be late."

For a few moments, Hermione didn't move or say anything. She would've kept on arguing with him but she really didn't want to be late and this _was_ her Christmas gift so she put on her coat said, "Fine, let's go."

"May I take your coat, Miss?" was the first thing a tall elegant man with his hair combed back asked Hermione when she stepped into _'Patils' Petals'_ .

"Oh, thank you," she replied graciously as she slid out of her coat. The hostess sat them at a nice quiet table for two in the back by a warm fireplace.

'_This is good,' _Hermione thought after the hostess had given them their menus and left._ 'A good table. Maybe this dinner will turn out great.'_

Neither Hermione nor Ron attempted conversation. A few minutes later, their waitress arrived. She was a short blonde witch with a slightly squeaky voice. "Hello, I'm Cora and I'll be your waitress for tonight. What kind of drinks can I get you to start off your meals?"

"Fire Whiskey, please," Ron answered.

"And for you, Miss?"

"What kind of red wines do you have?"

"Well we have this lovely new high-end stuff called Indian Blood Wine—"

"That'll be perfect," Ron interrupted.

"Very good. I'll be back with your drink orders in a second."

"So," Ron tried, after the waitress had gone. "How were your parents?"

"Well."

"Did you have fun today?"

"Yes." Realizing that their conversation was rather dull, Hermione asked, "And how was your day? Tell me about the match."

And off he went; talking and talking and talking animatedly about each maneuver the Cannons played. He was still talking when Cora reappeared with their drinks.

"Thank you," they both told her.

"Have you decided what you'll be ordering to eat?"

"Umm, I think we'll need a bit more time," Hermione responded.

"I'll be back in five, then."

"Okay."

As Ron talked, Hermione's thoughts trailed elsewhere. She began comparing this night to the night before. Merlin, did she have fun last night—just she and Harry, with no interruptions or annoyances.

"Hey Herms, why aren't you drinking your wine? Here…" But as Ron leaned over to place Hermione's drink closer to her, his fingers hit it and it toppled forward, spilling all over the tablecloth and Hermione's dress. She gave a yelp of surprise and jumped out of her seat. "Oh my God, Hermione, I'm so sorry! I just—and it just—"

"Miss." A waiter rushed over to their aide. Upon seeing her dress, he murmured, "Love, don't even try to remove that with magic…"

"What!" Hermione cried in alarm. "This doesn't come off with magic?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss. This is very high-end, bred from our finest Wizard Wineries in India. It's not exactly meant to be spilled. I'm very sorry."

"Oh my God…" whispered Hermione helplessly.

"Why don't you go on to the ladies room and this gentleman"—he motioned to Ron—"and I will try to fix things up here."

"Yes, thank you…" Hermione headed for the restroom in a daze.

As she tried desperately to get the large crimson stain off her dress, she thought, _'What a date _this_ has turned out to be.'_ She didn't even know why she was trying to get the stain off like this. Maybe she didn't feel like going back…

After fifteen minutes of hopelessly wiping her dress with water and standing under the hand dryer, Hermione returned to her seat, the stain still as prominent as ever.

"They changed the tablecloth," Ron told her quietly.

Hermione nodded. She didn't exactly feel like talking anymore.

Their waitress came back. "Are we ready to order?"

"Mind if I choose for us?" Ron asked Hermione. "I looked over the menu while you were gone."

Hermione nodded again.

"I'll have the Grilled Salmon Teriyaki, and the lady here will have the Roasted Chicken with Gourmet Sauce and rice on the side."

Cora repeated their order to them to make sure it was right and told them that it should be ready in about a quarter of an hour.

While they waited, Ron tried to ease back into the conversation about the game he'd seen that day. Hermione let him. _She_ certainly didn't have anything to talk about.

Their food arrived just as Cora had predicted. The food was good, that much Hermione had to admit.

"You know," she said to Ron for the first time since the wine incident. "This Gourmet Sauce is really good. What's in it?"

"I'll ask for you," Ron replied and stopped a passing waiter to inquire about the sauce.

"Ah! Now that is a very special recipe made with the finest sesame oil—"

Hermione almost choked. "Did you say _sesame_!"

"Why yes I did, Mademoiselle. Is there a problem?"

"Yes," Hermione answered slowly. "There _is_ a problem. I'm allergic to sesame…" And then she felt it. Her stomach began to turn. Every time she ate anything with sesame, it never agreed with her stomach. "I'll be right back."

For the second time that evening, Hermione headed for the ladies' room, this time she raced there. Her gag reflex was definitely about to get some exercise. She leaned over the toilet and heaved everything she'd just eaten out in waves. Everything she'd just eaten. When she'd finished, she sat at the floor and leaned her clammy forehead onto the cold wall of the stall feeling absolutely abysmal. What a feeling. Hermione felt as if she'd just puked out all her insides.

Despite how she felt, she had to force herself to stand up. _'I can't let this night go entirely to waste,'_ she told herself. Gently, Hermione pulled herself to her feet, flushed the toilet, and washed her mouth out in the sink. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that she looked like hell. Trying desperately to fix her appearance, she smoothed back her hair and touched up her make up. She left the bathroom struggling to feel optimistic.

But when she got back to her table, Ron wasn't there. _'Probably went to the bathroom,'_ Hermione thought as she took her seat. Then, one of the waitresses approached her.

"Miss?"

Hermione looked up.

"Your gentleman has already taken care of the bill. And he also left this note for you." She handed Hermione a small piece of folded parchment.

"You mean he's already left?" asked Hermione in stunned, heartbroken disappointment.

"Yes he has."

Hermione couldn't say anything else and after a minute or so, the waitress left. Unfolding the note, Hermione read:

So sorry I had to leave, but Puddlemere's called an emergency practice session. We didn't know, but we have a game tomorrow. Stay and enjoy the rest of your dinner. I've paid them extra for you to get something else. I hope you feel better. Sorry again. Happy Christmas.

_Ron_

For a long time, Hermione just sat staring at a spot on the tablecloth, unable to do or think anything. Tears began to brim in her eyes and all at once, she crumpled the note, threw it into the fireplace, and stood up. As fast as she could, Hermione headed for the door. When she stepped outside, she discovered that freezing rain was pouring down from the night sky. A violent shiver racked her frame. She'd forgotten her coat.

Just as Hermione turned to go back in to the restaurant, her sandals slipped on the wet stone steps and she fell down, her backside hitting the pavement hard. A tall, built waiter came hurrying out to help her to her feet. He placed her coat around her shoulders.

"Are you alright, darling?" he queried concerned.

"Yes," Hermione winced. "I'm fine."

"Will you be alright getting home? Would you like me to hail you a Knight Taxi?"

"No, no. It's okay. I can do it from here."

"Take care of yourself, love. Please."

"I will. Thank you."

After he'd gone, Hermione hobbled down the steps and hastily hailed a taxi as the rain beat down harder.

"Where to?" the driver asked when she'd slid onto the back seat.

Hermione gave him her home address and leaned back onto the seat as the taxi lurched into movement.

If only there was someone she could go to for comfort. She didn't think she could handle going home alone right now. She needed someone to talk to. She needed…

"Change of plans!" Hermione exclaimed to the driver. "Take me to The Three Broomsticks instead, please."

"You got it." And the taxi took a sudden turn.

Hermione's heart raced as she stumbled out of the taxi and hurried into The Three Broomsticks. She saw Madame Rosemerta behind the bar and exasperatedly asked her what she needed to know. When she got her answer, she raced up the stairs to the rooms on the upper floor despite Madame Rosemerta's further questioning.

Hermione knocked ten times in a row on the door to room number four. When it opened, Harry stood bewildered before her in a pair of pajama bottoms and a white cotton undershirt.

"Hermione…" he said in surprise.

And like a worn out doll, Hermione crumpled into Harry's open arms, sobbing.

And that's how the story ends… JUST KIDDING! –lol- Did I get ya?

Stay tuned for: Hermione spends the night with Harry. What will happen? You'll see…

Until then…review please!


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